


Their Timeline

by brightlikeloulou



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alexandria Safe-Zone, Also Normal TWD Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Character Study, Domestic Fluff, Drowning, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Neither Paul or Daryl Drown btw, Past Child Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Post-War, Slow Build, Smut, Somewhat Graphic Killing Of A Bunny, The Hilltop (Walking Dead), Time Skips, Top!Jesus, a lot of crying, bottom!daryl, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-15 21:31:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13622067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brightlikeloulou/pseuds/brightlikeloulou
Summary: Daryl Dixon has had a lot of significant moments in his life.





	Their Timeline

**Author's Note:**

> This is a really different style than what I do, especially smut. 
> 
> (not edited yet as It's 1am but will be done soon)

Daryl Dixon was eight years old when his mother died.

He ran down the street after he had seen the smoke swirling in the air and heard the loud ringing of sirens, the other kids that he was ‘hanging out with’ were already ahead of him because they had bikes. He ran up his street and arrived at the front of his house, there was fire trucks and firemen everywhere and the house was surrounded by smoke. 

“Momma!” He had yelled and ran towards the house, she was in there when he left earlier in the afternoon laying in bed watching television with a bottle of whiskey in one hand and a cigarette in the other. 

He only got a few metres before he was grabbed from behind and thrown over someones shoulder, he kicked and screamed until he was put down over by an ambulance. He realised it was Merle who had carried him and grabbed at his shirt as he cried “Where’s momma? Where’s momma?” His voice was desperate as he looked up at his brother with tear filled blue eyes. 

Merle didn’t say anything but Daryl went quiet as he watched a tear leak from Merle’s eye and then fall down his face. He had never seen his big brother cry before, never. 

Even Daryl at that young age knew what a body bag looked like, his mother loved watching crime shows and documentaries. 

He had watched as it was wheeled out on top of a stretcher to an ambulance by a paramedic and a fireman, he screamed again and tried to run over to it only to have Merle grab him again. But Merle didn’t put him down like the last time, he turned him around so Daryl could burry his face in his shoulder and he did.

Daryl cried, cried a lot and Merle did too, one hand on the back of Daryl’s head softly stroking his hair and his other under his legs to hold his small body up. 

Merle joined the army and left two months later, leaving Daryl all alone. 

 

* * *

 

Daryl Dixon was nine years old when he got lost in the woods.

Merle had just left after visiting for a week, it had been the first time Daryl saw him since he left almost a year before. Merle said it would again be a long time before he could visit. 

Merle was scarily more like their father when he came back, his eyes seemed lifeless and blank just the same as his were. He spent almost the entire week drinking and smoking, him and their father got in arguments too. Daryl didn’t know what about because the yelling and the sight on them throwing punches at each other scared him so he ran into his room and tucked himself under the bed. He went back out into the living room once he heard the sound of his father’s truck pulling away from the house, he found Merle pulling his fist out of where he had just punched a hole through the wall beside a hung and framed photo of their mother. 

When Merle had turned around he looked so incredibly mad that Daryl thought he was going to hit him too, become even more like their father. 

The first three days in the woods were the worst, he was panicked and couldn’t get himself together. He spent the majority of those days sitting up against a tall rock with his knees pulled up to his chest as he sobbed. The rock was right by the river so he had water, it was food that was the problem. He had seen maybe five rabbits but all he had on him was his hunting knife not his crossbow, he would have to kill them hands on. 

Day five he finally gave in, his stomach rumbled loudly and constantly and felt more empty than it had ever been. He had crept slowly over to where he could see a rabbit and crouched a metre from it, he took a few moments to pull together the courage to do it. Finally he did, he launched himself forward and managed to wrap his small hands around the rabbit, the creature squirmed violently in his hold. 

He sobbed loudly as he brought his knife to the rabbits throat and slit it, he felt it’s body go limp in his hands and the warm blood trickle through his fingers. 

He continued to sob and threw the now dead rabbit to the ground and desperately scurried away from it, crying loudly and rolling into a fetal position where he stayed for an hour before he made his way back to the rabbit and picked it up. 

He made his way back to his current makeshift camp and placed the rabbit down by the embers of the previous nights fire, he grabbed two sticks and after a few moments had it relit. He let the fire warm up while he skinned the rabbit, once again crying as he did. He’s glad for his uncle Jess as he does, it was him who had taught him almost everything he knew about hunting and survival. 

Uncle Jess was older than his dad by a few years and though he was still quite an asshole he was much better than his father, he seemed to care about him more than his father did. 

On the ninth and final day he felt dead on his feet, his body completely exhausted and once again he’s starving but he couldn't bring himself to kill another animal. It was nearing midday when he found a landmark he recognised, a large fallen tree covered in moss and greenery. He recognises it because he passes it whenever he goes over to his friends house on the other side of the river. He sniffled in relief and then begun walking in the direction where he knows his house is, just fifteen minutes away. 

 

* * *

 

Daryl Dixon was twelve years old when his best friend drowned. 

Rosanne or Rose as he called her was perhaps the only real friend. She was an outcast like him after having moved to his town four years ago just after his mother died.

At least she _was_ an outcast, for a few years at least but as they got older she got pretty and suddenly a lot more people desired to be around her. She always stuck by him though. 

Daryl was never really able to understand why the two of them got along, they just did. 

Maybe it was because they were both outcasts? Him never being accepted by the other children because of who his family was among other reasons and her because she hadn’t been around since kindergarten like everyone else. 

Daryl understood why people didn’t like him, he was quiet and got in fights, he’d been suspended multiple times and he smokes and swears like a trucker at age twelve. On top of that his family had been in trouble with almost everyone in town, people hated and were scared of them. 

Rosanne was different though, she was somewhat outgoing well at least a lot more than he was and she was incredibly funny too, she could make a joke out of anything. She had never been suspended and kept out of trouble and never once had Daryl heard her swear. She was an only child but her mom and dad were great, they didn’t care about who his family was or that it took half a year for him to be able to say more than three sentences to them, he made their daughter happy and that is what counted to them. 

Summer break was like heaven for the two of them, they’d spend their days in the woods playing chase and hide and go seek, they’d swim at a spot in river that was near Rosanne’s house. They claimed the woods as theirs and treated it like a kingdom. 

It was midday on a hot Sunday when Daryl felt as if he had lost everything. 

He and Rosanne had made arrangements the day before to meet at their spot in the river at midday though she had said she would be there earlier, not minding that he had work to do at the house before he could join her.

When he had finally made it to the river he found Rosanne floating in the water, he had grinned and called out to her as he placed his bag pack down on the river bank. When she didn’t reply he had furrowed his eyebrows and called out again only to be met with silence, he felt a sinking in his gut when he realised she was facedown in the water. 

He had rushed out to her and treaded water as he flipped her over finding her eyes closed. 

He managed to get them both back to the river bank fairly quickly, he had dragged her limp body out of the water by her armpits and then let her down on the cool grass. 

He dropped to the ground beside her and pushed her matted thick red hair out of her face and then leaned down, trying to feel if she was breathing. She wasn’t. 

He sobbed in fear and placed two fingers on her wet neck searching for a pulse. He didn’t find one. 

His best friend was gone, drowned. 

Rosanne’s funeral was a week later. 

 

* * *

 

Daryl Dixon was twenty six years old when he realised he was gay. 

It was a sudden realisation but as he looked back on his previous years he wondered how the hell he hadn't realised sooner. 

How he hadn't wondered why he didn’t begin to fell attracted to Rosanne like everyone else seemed to, she was pretty no doubt about it. Long curly red hair that reached almost her tailbone and piercing bright blue eyes, plump pink lips and a freckle covered face. Yet despite her beauty, he never questioned why he didn’t desire to kiss her like others did or to shove a hand up her shirt and feel her breast like others had tried to do. 

He never caught onto that on the rare occasions he had watched porn he would focus on the man, that he paid more attention to the noises they made and not the woman. 

He would look through men’s fitness magazines and think it was for the fitness routines or the celebrity interviews not for the posing men. 

It was early on a Monday morning when he came to the realisation. He was walking out of his apartment to head to work when his neighbour, James had come out of his own apartment looking absolutely gorgeous. He was bare chested and wearing nothing but a pair of sweats, his defined abs and tan skin was completely on display along with his messy black hair. 

“Morning, Daryl.” James had greeted him with a small wave and a lazy smile as he made his way over to the garbage disposal. 

Daryl had found himself stuttering and then awkwardly clearing his throat after a few moments. “Hey, Uh, gotta go.” He replied awkwardly and then hurried down the hallway to the elevator. 

He was absolutely terrified, his father would kill him and Merle well he wasn’t exactly sure what his older brother would do but he wasn’t sure he wanted to find out.

 

* * *

 

Daryl Dixon was twenty nine years old when he told his older brother he was gay. 

They'd been living together for almost a year, since Merle had been dishonourably discharged from the army after it was discovered he was on illegal drugs. He sells them now. 

The two of them were sitting on opposite sides of the couch and sipping on beers as they watched a baseball game . 

“Aw that’s fuckin’ gay!” Merle had shouted in anger and slammed his fist on the table as a catch was missed. 

Daryl had finally snapped. “Don’t.” He growled and ground his teeth together. 

Since having realised his sexuality he had only come out to one person and that was a fellow gay man, Rowan at his work who he had been friends with for years. Rowan had just smiled at him and petted his shoulder, “I know.” He had murmured and Daryl had let out a breath of relief. 

He was taught by Rowan that there wasn’t anything wrong with him, that there was nothing wrong with him or anyone being gay. 

“What?” Merle asked distractedly and gulped down the last mouthful of his beer, eyes fixated on the television screen. 

Daryl was silent for a few moments before he replied. “Don’t use the word gay as a synonym for bad.” He growled as he felt his fingernails dig into his skin through his sweats. 

Merle turned to face him and then just looked at him, looked at him for what felt like a long time. It seemed as if the gears were turning in his head. “Yer gay?” He asked quietly, his voice filled with recognition and a tinge of disbelief. 

“Yes.” Daryl whispered in reply and chugged the last of his beer as he avoided Merle’s gaze. 

“How long?” Merle asked through clenched teeth after a while of silence. 

“Always.” Daryl grunts in reply and it’s true even though he’s only known it for a few years he always had been.

Merle didn’t say anything but he stood up from the old and lumpy couch and made his way to the front door of their apartment, grabbing his wallet and bike keys from the kitchen bench as he went. 

Daryl sighed and then buried his face in his sweaty hands, taking a few deep and shaky breaths as he tried not to break down. He only lasted a few minutes before he couldn’t take it anymore, he begun to sob violently into his hands, his entire body shook with the intensity of them and he could feel the hot tears running down his cheeks. 

Merle returned hours and hours later after the sun had gone down and the city had quietened. 

Daryl was in his room laying on his bed with his sweater covered back pressed up against the wall and a book in his lap when his door was pushed open and Merle entered, he was obviously drunk by the way he stumbled. 

After having taken a few moments to steady himself Merle begun to speak. “I don’t gotta like it, I don’t gotta be okay with it but I can accept it.” He growled at him, the words slurred.

Daryl gulped and nodded. “Okay.” He whispered and licked his lips, in a way he had felt that a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. 

Merle nodded at him and then left his bedroom. 

 

* * *

 

Daryl Dixon was thirty two years old when he had his first kiss. 

It had been at a bar and it was nothing special and nothing he wanted to remember. 

Daryl could see the man watching him all night from the other end of the bar, sending him smirks and smiles or biting his lip making Daryl blush hard. 

He was decent in appearance from what he could tell from the quick glances at the other man, brunette hair and matching stubble, green maybe hazel eyes and dirty blue wash jeans. 

Merle who sat beside him was completely oblivious to the whole thing, he was too busy flirting with the cute bartender who surprisingly seemed to be flirting back. 

After a while he felt too fidgety so he stood up from his stool at the bar. “Goin’ for a smoke.” He told Merle who gave him a nod in reply and then went back to telling the bartender one of his exaggerated war stories.

He made his way to the door at the back of the bar and then stepped out into the cool night air. He walked along the wall of the bar until he was around the side of the building in the alleyway, there was too many people out the back as it was a parking lot. 

He leaned up against the wall and pulled out his pack of smokes and lighter from his jean pocket, he lit one and begun taking drags as he enjoyed the cool night air against his bare arms. 

“There you are.” A voice suddenly said making him jump. 

He looked over to where the voice had come from and found the guy that from the bar, a nearby light sent a yellow glow over his features showing off just how attractive he actually was. 

The guy stepped up close to him, a foot of space between them and Daryl could definitely see that his eyes were hazel. Daryl took a deep and nervous breath as he dropped his cigarette onto the concrete ground and looked into the guy’s eyes, he jumped slightly when a large hand landed on his jaw and a thumb began caressing. 

“What’s your name?” The guy asked as he smiled at him and butterflies formed in Daryl stomach because this man was gorgeous and he was being touched by him. 

“Daryl.” He replied after being silent for a few moments and then he nervously licked his lips, he blushed when the man followed the movement. 

The man smiled at him and held his jaw a little firmer. “That suits you.” He murmured and then moved closer and Daryl gasped softly when their chests pressed together. “My name’s Ty.” He said a few moments later and then he leant down and pressed their lips together. 

Daryl’s eyes widened in surprise at the warm feeling of Ty’s lips on his. Then he gasp softly when a hand landed on his waist, Ty took advantage of making him gasp and pushed his tongue into his mouth, Daryl almost gasped again but he stopped himself and closed his eyes as he tried to calm down and kiss Ty back. 

Ty was a hard kisser almost bruising his lips as he claimed his mouth and Daryl was clumsy, desperately trying to match the other man’s speed. 

Ty pulled away from his lips after a few moments and then begun kissing down his neck, he used his hand on Daryl’s jaw to push his head almost painfully to the side. Daryl moaned softly at the sucking on his skin and then furrowed his eyebrows when Ty pushed their crotches together and began to grind against him. 

Daryl’s eyes widened and he squirmed against the other man as he placed a hand on his shoulder and pushed. “No.” He murmured and tried to shy away from where Ty was still kissing his neck. “Get off!” He grunted and tried to shove the man off of him but Ty was bigger than Daryl and didn’t budge. 

He felt Ty smile against his neck and then a hand is being trailed down his chest.”Baby, you’re enjoying it.” Ty mumbled and bit his neck. 

“Fuck off!” Daryl growled and tried to shove at him again only to be pushed harder into the wall. 

Ty laughed and Daryl yelped as the hand that was trailing down his chest was suddenly shoved down the front of his jeans and grabbing at his dick. 

Daryl felt tears begin to pool in his eyes as Ty refused to remove himself from him and kept going at his neck, biting and sucking so hard it was painful. Moments later the hand was removed from his pants and Daryl almost felt relived until there was two hands on his hips forcing him to spin around, Ty shoved his chest up against the wall and then pushed one hand back down the front of his jeans and used the other to try and pull his jeans down to expose his backside. 

Daryl sobbed and tried to break away from him but he couldn’t. “Please stop.” He groaned and then felt relief flood through when he heard footsteps approaching around the corner, Merle’s voice flooded the air moments later.

“Hey, Daryl, you back here?” Merle called worriedly as he approached the ally, his eyes widened when he found them. “What the fuck?!” He growled, he had heard Daryl’s pleas for Ty to stop and could see that he was struggling against the other man.

Merle pulled Ty off of him and threw him to the ground, he crawled on top of him and begun repeatedly punching his face. “Please stop!” Ty cried as blood had begun spurting from his nose and his cheek had already begun to swell. 

Merle growled and seemed to punch harder. “Why should I, huh? That’s what my baby brother was jus’ askin’ but ya didn’t stop!” Merle shouted at him. 

Daryl whimpered from where he stood up against the wall, he had adjusted his pants and was now sobbing quietly.”Merle.” He whimpered and his brother finally stopped, he looked over to him and though his face was still dripping in anger it filled with concern when he had looked at Daryl. “Ya gonna kill ‘im.” Daryl said quietly, he wiped at his nose and refused to meet Merle’s eyes or even look at any part of Ty. 

“He deserves it.” Merle hissed and lifted Ty by the front of his shirt only to slam his head back into the concrete and Ty groaned in pain. 

Daryl sobbed again lightly and wrapped his arms around himself. “Please can we jus’ go home?” He whimpered and looked down at his feet, he did not want his brother to see him weak. 

Merle looked at him for a moment and then back at Ty, he finally stood up off of Ty but delivered a painful kick to his ribs. Merle made his way over to Daryl and cautiously wrapped an arm around his shoulders to lead him to their car. 

They didn’t speak until they were in the elevator on their way up to their apartment. “Can’t go to tha cops.” He mumbled and Daryl nodded, even if he wanted to go to the cops he couldn’t, not with Merle selling drugs for a living. He’d be caught and thrown in jail for sure. 

They never spoke of that night again.

 

* * *

 

Daryl Dixon was forty years old when the old world died and the next one was born. 

It had been on the news for days, reports from all over the world of the dead coming back to life, the reborn being able to turn the living into one of them. 

The first time he and Merle had seen on of them it was on the television being broadcasted on a news program. 

Military soldiers were being filmed in full body armour fighting off a whole lot of them, the dead were growing and snarling as they clawed and grabbed out towards the soldiers only to be stopped when bullets went through their bodies but even then they didn’t die, Daryl had found himself thinking _Aim for the head, morons._

He and Merle had watched in silence as they chain smoked, sat on the same lumpy couch they had had for years in the same old apartment. 

They continued to watch the rest of that news program and then others that followed it up until everything had suddenly gone black, the TV and lights shut off and the beep of the fridge and other electrical appliances had let them know that they had done the same. 

“What the fuck?” Merle had grunted and then Daryl heard shuffling and rummaging after a drawer of their old coffee table had been pulled open. 

A torch clicked on and their small living room was filled with a dim light. “Oi turn it off, don’t know how long it’ll be out.” Daryl grunted and Merle nodded and did as he was told. 

They knew their way around their apartment so they didn’t need the torch. Yet. 

 

* * *

 

Daryl Dixon was ten months into The Next World when he held his goddaughter for the first time.

At the time she wasn’t his goddaughter, well maybe she was but it wasn’t declared until many months later. 

He and Maggie had just entered the prison block after returning from their run for formula, the baby was healthy when they had left but she was hungry and needed food or she would soon enough die. Daryl couldn’t lose somebody else, he needed to protect that little girl, he needed to make sure she lived. 

He and Maggie walked into what they used as the common area with Glenn, Oscar and Axel following behind them. 

Daryl made a beeline for the baby girl in her big brother’s arms and carefully took her from him. Daryl adjusted her in his arms as carefully as he could, he had never held a baby before and he didn’t want to hurt her. He couldn’t bear the thought of hurting her. 

He rocked the tiny baby and shushed her as Maggie and Beth prepared her bottle, he was well aware of all of the eyes on him. Usually he would hate all the attention but right then he wasn’t even paying attention to the others, his focus was on his best friends daughter that was cradled safely in his hold. 

Beth approached him and passed him the small plastic bottle which he then immediately placed at the baby’s mouth. She had begun to drink straight away and he, along with other’s he’s sure, let out a breath of relief. 

“She got a name yet?” He asked quietly after a few moments as he looked at Carl.

Carl shook his head slightly and looked up at him. “Not yet, I was thinking maybe Sophia? There’s carol too, Andrea, Amy, Jackie, Patricia.” He said and then going quiet for a moment. “Or Lori, I don’t know.” The young boy sounded sad and angry. 

Daryl felt his heart clench and possibly even the sting of tears behind his eyes, he looked back down at the baby girl in his arms, she seemed to ground him. “You like that, huh? Lil’ Ass Kicker.” He cooed at her as she sucked enthusiastically at the bottle’s nipple, he grinned a little and looked around the room. “That’s a good name right? Lil’ Ass Kicker.” Everyone in the room laughed lightly and he looked back down at the baby one he noticed that Rick wasn’t in the room.”Do you like that sweetheart?” He asked her softly as he smiled, maybe his first real smile in months. 

 

* * *

 

Daryl Dixon was ten and a half months into the next world when his older brother died. 

He walked through the field and around the buildings, putting down walkers if they approached him as he kept an eye out for Merle. 

Michonne had told him he was in this direction, he had found himself trusting her quite quickly which went completely against his morals. He knew he wasn’t the only one though, Carl and Rick seemed to be growing quite close to her already and Andrea trusted her too, though at present time he wasn’t sure where he sat on Andrea. 

He found Merle after having searched around the buildings for a few minutes. 

He knew it was him as soon he saw him but he had tried not to believe it, he recognised the jacket he was wearing and his cropped short and greying hair, the silver of his makeshift hand glinted in the sunlight. 

Daryl approached slowly and dropped his crossbow to the ground as he had felt himself go numb. Immediately he had found himself beginning to cry when Merle raised his head, his eyes were glazed over and the skin of his face was grey, what had disturbed Daryl the most was the piece of human flesh that was hanging from his mouth. 

Daryl sobbed and pushed his dead brother away from him when he began to grab at him. 

He remembered that day the first time Merle came home after joining the army, how he had looked so mad that Daryl feared he would hit him like their father loved to do. 

But then as his brother growled and snarled Daryl knew that he ( _would_ ) hurt him. 

Daryl got Merle to the ground and proceeded to stab him repeatedly in the head, he knew that he was gone after just the first stab but he just kept on going. He slammed his knife repeatedly through his brother’s skull seven times and then jumped away from his body as if it was fire, he was sobbing loudly over the sound of other walkers growling and snarling as they approached.

 

* * *

 

Daryl Dixon was one year and six months into The Next World when he met Paul “Jesus” Rovia.

Both Daryl and Rick were taken by surprise when someone was suddenly crashing into Rick, sending the man rib first into the vending machine they had been hooking up to their truck. 

Both men immediately pulled out their guns and trained them on the man who seemed to have appeared out of thin air, he was wearing a leather trench coat that almost went down to his ankles a dark grey beanie was a top of his head, his eyes were the only part of his face that was visible due to a white bandana constricting it. 

“Hi.” The guy said breathily and raised his eyebrows briefly as he held up his glove covered hands. 

“Back up now!” Daryl shouted and jerked his gun at the guy. 

“Keep ‘em up!” Rick added on when he begun to drop his hands. 

“Whoa, easy guys. I was just running from the dead.” He replied and motioned to behind the gas station with his hand. 

Daryl stepped closer to him and kept his gun raised, he found himself looking into his eyes, finding them an intriguing mix of blue and green also big and doe like making the man seem innocent though Daryl suspected he definitely wasn’t.

“How many?” Daryl grunted, not breaking eye contact. 

“Ten maybe more, I’m not risking it.” He told him, looking at Daryl intensely. Daryl wasn’t even sure if they guy had even taken a proper look at Rick. “Once it gets to double digits it start running.” He said, eyes filled with something that looked a whole lot like mirth. 

Daryl looked at him a moment longer before he replied. “Where?” 

“About half a mile back.” The guy replied and tilted his head to the side. “They’re headed this way, you probably have about eleven minutes.” 

The three of them were silent for a few moments before Rick lowered his gun. “Okay, thanks for letting us know.” He said and nodded his head. 

“Yeah, there’s more of them then us. Gotta stick together.” He replied and then shifted to the side to catch Daryl’s eye, raising his eyebrows. “Right?” He said and Daryl found himself thinking about how intense his eyes were, he’s certain there’s a smile or beneath that bandana and he found himself desiring to see it. Daryl lowered his gun but kept his eyes trained on the man. “You have a camp?” He asked a moment later and lowered his hands. 

“Nah.” Daryl bit back. 

“Do you?” Rick asked. 

The guy was quiet for a moment. “No,” He said. “Sorry for running into you, I’m gonna go now.” He said after another moment of silence and begun to turn around. “This is The Next World, I hope it’s good to you guys.” He called and begun to jog away. 

Daryl and Rick shared a look before Rick spoke up. “I’m Rick.” He said. “And this is Daryl.” The guy turned around when Rick introduced the other man. “What’s your name?” He then asked and Daryl was glad he did, he surprised himself with how deeply he desired to know it. 

They had turned around to face them again and he pulled down the white bandana. “Paul Rovia but my friends used to call me Jesus.” He replied and outstretched his arms. “Your pick.” 

Daryl’s jaw almost dropped but he managed to restrain himself. The guy, Paul _,_ was absolutely gorgeous. 

“Said ya didn’t have a camp, your on your own?” Rick asked cautiously as he rubbed a hand over his chin. 

Paul nodded and lowered his arms. “Yeah,” He replied and tilted his head to the side and Daryl caught the way his parted pink and plump lips had curved into a grin. “But still,” He said and locked eyes with Daryl. “Best not to try anything.” His grin turned almost into a smirk and his eyes had lit up with it. 

“Best not to make threats you can’t keep either.” Daryl fired back and that seemed to please Paul even more. 

“Exactly.” 

 

* * *

 

Daryl Dixon was one year and seven months into The Next World when he escaped The Sanctuary.

Paul shouted at the gates to The Hilltop to be opened and the two of them jumped off of Daryl’s bike, it was Sasha who ran out of the community and to them first. 

Immediately Daryl had shied closer to Paul’s side and Sasha knew better than to try and get too close to him, to pull him into a embrace like she wanted to. Daryl had felt Paul cautiously place a hand on his lower back and he found that he was comforted by the contact, that scared him. 

“Are you both okay?” She asked instead, she looked them both up and down to check for injuries, her eyebrows were pulled together and her entire face seemed to be covered in concern. 

Paul nodded at her. “Can you bring his bike in?” He asked her already knowing she would, she nodded in reply. 

Daryl kept his eyes glued to the ground as they walked through the front gates and into the community, everything felt fussy and he swore he could still hear _cause we’re on easy street._ He trusted Paul to lead him, the warm hand on his back seemed to be grounding him. They had reached the trailer within a few minutes and then he was being led up a few steps and into a trailer. 

Daryl heard the trailer door close behind them and he was slowly led over to a round table, Paul encouraged him to sit down and he did so.

He stayed silent as he sat at the table, he gripped his own hands desperately and tried not to fall into a panic. He found himself watching Paul who was moving about the trailer collecting clothes for him, Paul was speaking to him too. He was speaking about nothing important but Daryl was grateful, he barely knew Paul but the sound of his voice was so comforting that it had a new kind of fear dripping through him. 

 

* * *

 

Daryl Dixon was forty one years old and one year and seven months in The Next World when he and Paul “Jesus” Rovia started to become something. 

The attraction was there since the day that had met but the connection seemed to have formed when Daryl looked up to the top of that truck and saw Paul “Jesus” Rovia looking back at him. 

Daryl had been at his worst then, he was being tortured as they had tried to break him and he knew he wouldn’t. He would never break, would never become one of them but he knew that soon Negan would give up on him and he would be killed, he was prepared for that.

But when he saw Paul up on that roof with his hair looking a perfect mess and his brows creased with concentration and his face riddled with so many other emotions Daryl thought _Maybe it could be okay._

That _something_ continued to grow and grow as time went on. 

The all out war came soon enough after that and the two men fought side by side, they saved each other’s asses over and over, Daryl the latter. They had seen each other at some of their worsts during that war, covered in the blood of walkers, friends and enemies. 

Daryl had moved into Paul’s trailer at the Hilltop once the war was over, taking up residence his friends couch. In all honesty Daryl had ended up in the bed more often than the couch, he was completely plagued by the nightmares that traumatised his mind and would often wake up to Paul pulling him into his arms and whispering “Come sleep with me.” into his hair. 

And some nights Daryl would just get into the bed without even having a nightmare, sometimes because he was just having a bad day and needed the comfortability of having Paul close to him. 

Paul had never questioned it, he would just slip into bed beside him if Daryl got in before him or just pull the older man into his arms if he was there first. It was strangely natural and easy for the both of them, they were both scared by that. 

It was something with how they looked at each other when the other one wasn’t looking, eyes full of desire and longing and the blush that would cover their cheeks if they were caught. 

It was something with what they knew about each other, Paul knew that Daryl had what was possibly the biggest sweet tooth known to man and was always happy when he was given a treat. He knew that the scars that covered Daryl’s back were from his cruel and inhumane father, he knew that Daryl secretly loved when Paul touched them because for song long it had always been a cruel touch and to feel something so soft and careful made him feel warm and fuzzy inside. Paul knew that Daryl was taught to hunt and track and survive by his uncle, that the tattoo of _Daryl_ above the older man’s heart was a tribute to his grandfather of whom he was named after.

Paul knew that when Daryl was in one of his moods that it was best if Paul didn’t speak, Daryl preferred Paul to just stay silent and slowly stroke his hair or back, Daryl spoke when he was ready to. 

Daryl knew that the smallest possibly thing could mean everything to Paul, a singular pencil or book, a new hairbrush or a couple of hairbands that weren’t stretched or beginning to snap. Daryl knew that Paul in his life had never really truly cared about someone or loved someone until their group of Alexandrian’s came along, he knew that nobody had ever really cared about him either. 

They began to mean everything to each other and after a long journey of acceptance, they had both become okay with it. 

 

* * *

 

Daryl Dixon was forty two years old and one year and ten months into The Next World when he had his second kiss.

It was mid June and at the beginning of Summer, the air was starting to grow hot instead of the warm spring air that he enjoyed so much more and the cool morning air that would have Daryl curling into Paul’s warm body had begun to disappear and have him roll away from him instead, his body heat making him sweaty and uncomfortable. 

He had been stupid really and let it slip that his birthday was was his birthday in mid June, Paul’s eyes had lit up like a Christmas tree. 

Somehow the two men and along with Maggie and Enid had ended up in Alexandria for Daryl’s birthday, the plan was to have a family dinner and house party type thing at Rick and Michonne’s house. 

Of course Daryl had grumbled and complained the entire time Paul drove them to Alexandria but once they actually got to the dinner he found himself beginning to enjoy it, all of their family in the one place being happy and having fun was good for him. This was of course after he had been bombarded with cheek and forehead kisses from _everyone_ and “Happy Birthday!” was repeated. 

After the party Daryl and Paul had ended up on the roof, smoking and sharing a bottle of wine as they chatted casually. 

Daryl cringed a little as he swallowed a mouthful of wine, he had never liked it too much. “Have you had a good birthday?” Paul asked quietly and smiled softly at him. 

Daryl smiled back though not as wide, eyes glancing over Paul’s features and feeling at ease. Paul’s pink lips are spread in a closed lipped grin and small crinkles have emerged round his eyes, Daryl always loved it when they did. The small crinkles only seemed to appear when his smile was truly genuine and real. 

They had had the talk a month or more ago, the talk that had confirming that they had feelings for each other and that they wanted to be together, Paul had assured Daryl that he was not going to date Alex like the nurse wanted him to do so badly. Paul had respected Daryl’s need to take things slow, saying that he never wanted him to feel pushed. 

“Was good.” Daryl replied after a few moments of looking at the other man and he felt his stomach fill with warmth when Paul smiled even wider and then shifted closer to him, he placed a hand on his knee. 

“I’m glad.” Paul said and pressed a quick peck to Daryl’s scruffy cheek. “I have a present for you.” He murmurs once he’s pulled away and he gently pushes Daryl’s bangs out of his eyes. 

Daryl squinted at him suspiciously and tried not to pull Paul closer to him. “Ya didn’t have to do that.” He grumbled. 

Paul smiled even wider and then pulled a small plain gift box from behind him and Daryl’s brows furrowed in confusion as to how the hell Paul had brought it up here without him noticing. “Of course I had to get my boyfriend a birthday present, here.” Paul replied and placed the box in Daryl’s hands, the older man blushing at the word _boyfriend._

Daryl pulls the lid off of the box as he glares at Paul but he does it nicely. He pulls out a knife sheath from the box and tried to ignore the excitement bubbling in his stomach. “A knife?” He asked and then pulled out the knife, his eyebrows raising slightly. 

He found the knife beautiful, a very dark brown wooden handle and _Daryl.D XO_ had been burnt into it be Earl he assumed, he grinned because of course Paul would would put the hug and kiss symbol on the knife. The blade of the knife looks amazingly sharp, like it would go through a walker’s skull like butter and dark silver swirls are through the lighter silver metal. 

“Do you like it?” Paul asked nervously as he fiddled with his fingers and watched Daryl test the weight and grip of the knife in his hand. 

Daryl nodded enthusiastically and then looked over to him, he let himself smile as he carefully placed the knife back into the box and then pulled Paul into a hug. “Thank you.” He whispered and Paul smiled as he pressed a kiss to his cheek. 

They hugged for a few moments before Paul was the one to pull away, Paul smiled at him and placed a hand on his cheek and another on his shoulder. They just looked at each other for a while, eyes flickering over facial features that glowing yellow from the street light. 

Paul licked his lips and then glanced down at Daryl’s own. “Can I kiss you?” He murmured. 

Daryl took a few moments, taking a deep breath and then nodding. _It’s Paul, It’s fine._

Paul smiled at him and then began to lean in slowly, their eyes slipped closed almost in sync and then Paul was pressing their lips together gently and Daryl mentally calls himself stupid, he had put this off for so long because when he thought of kissing he thought of that night years ago in the alleyway. 

But it wasn’t like the ally, Paul was cupping his face gently with his thumb caressing his cheekbones that he said he loved so much and his other was gently playing with the ends of his hair. Paul’s lips were soft and plump against his own and he loved it, he never wanted to stop. 

He didn’t think about the alleyway once after their lips had been pressed together. 

 

* * *

 

Daryl Dixon was one year and eleven months into The Next World when he told Paul “Jesus” Rovia about Rosanne. 

He hadn’t meant to, he had told himself when she died that he wouldn’t talk about her again because it just hurt too fucking much. 

He had been drugged up when he spilled it. He had been injured on a run and ended up with a large cute down his left arm that he needed pain killers for, it had required quite a lot of stitches that he would not have been able to stay still for. 

Paul, who was pissed at Daryl for doing something stupid that ended up with him being hurt did stay as he was stitched up, sitting beside the bed and stroking his hair as the drugged man had demanded him do. 

Once the stitches were done Carson left them alone and told Paul to try and get Daryl to get some sleep. 

For the first time since he had been injected with the drugs Daryl was silent, looking deep in thought as he looked out into the room in front of him as he sat upwards on the bed. “Come on Daryl, you need to try and sleep.” Paul told him and sat down on the bed beside the man’s legs. 

Daryl looked at him and tilted his head a little. “I miss Rosanne.” He mumbled and then looked down at his lap. 

Paul furrowed his brows and shifted closer to the other man. “Who’s Rosanne?” He asked softly. Daryl had never mentioned anyone named Rosanne before. 

Daryl seemed to suddenly be taken over by emotions and shook his head as he moved closer to Paul and dropped his head onto his shoulder, wrapping his uninjured arm around his waist. “I miss her.” He whimpered into the material of Paul’s shirt and began to sob. 

Paul became even more confused but he wrapped his arms around Daryl’s shoulders and kissed his head softly. “Shh, sweetheart.” He murmured. 

By midday the following day, Daryl had been discharged from the med trailer and he and Paul left, deciding to take over a watch shift in the afternoon so they could watch the sunset, though he would never admit it Daryl was mesmerised by sunsets and sunrises. 

“Daryl, I want to talk about something you said yesterday.” Paul said softly after their previous conversation had come to an end, he glanced over at Daryl who was still happily watching the orangey-pink of the sunset.

Daryl snorted and glanced over at him for a moment, giving him a lopsided grin. “Man, I was high as shit yesterday I don’t remember nothin’ I said.” He grunted in reply. 

Paul sighed and moved closer to Daryl, taking the man’s big hand in his own. “You said you missed someone called Rosanne.” Paul replied gently and Daryl’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. “Who is that? You’ve never mentioned her.” 

Daryl closed his eyes and slipped his hand from Paul’s grip. He ran his hands through his hair and then gripped at it tightly. “We were best friends as kids.” He mumbled after being silent for a while, his voice shaky and he’s already on the edge of crying. 

Paul knew by Daryl’s reaction that something had gone wrong and his heart clenched at the sight of him so upset. “What happened to her?” He asked softly and moved closer to Daryl, he placed a hand on the man’s back and brushed his thumb back and forth. 

Daryl took a deep breath and whimpered softly before he replied. “She died when we were twelve.” Voice shaky and broken with tears. 

Paul sighed softly in surprise and moved even closer to the other man, “Do you want to tell me how?” He asked softly.

Daryl was silent for almost a minute certainly before he began speaking quietly. “We were meeting at the river at ‘er house, I was meetin’ her there a while after she already got there cause I had work ta do, we arranged it the day before so she knew.” He went stopped speaking when his voice broke. 

“It’s okay.” Paul whispered and pressed his lips softly against Daryl’s cheek. 

Daryl was silent again for a while and he leaned back against Paul before he spoke again. “When I got the river she was face down, pulled her out and she was already dead. Had drowned two hours before I even got there.” He whispered and hot fat tears rolled down his cheeks and dripped off of his jaw. 

Paul couldn’t help his soft gasp of surprise. “Oh, sweetheart. I’m so sorry that happened.” He replied quietly and moved so he was sitting behind Daryl, wrapping his body around the man. 

“Ya remind me of her. Ya would have got along.” Daryl said quietly after they had sat in silence for a few minutes, well Paul was silent as he pressed kisses to the man’s neck and rubbed his arms comfortingly as Daryl cried. 

Paul smiled softly. “I would have loved to have met her.” He told Daryl, he didn’t know much about the girl but she was Daryl’s best friend and anyone that was important to Daryl, in a way was important to him to. 

 

* * *

 

Daryl Dixon was two years into The Next World when he told Paul “Jesus” Rovia he loved him. 

Paul was the one who said it first, one month ago, Daryl had been leaving for a two week run and they were saying goodbye at the gate. 

After a long hug and kiss Paul had held Daryl at arms length and whispered “I love you, please be safe.” As he locked their eyes togethr, Daryl had startled momentarily and Paul smiled at him. “It’s okay. You don’t have to say it back until your ready but I’m going to say it.” Paul had told him and Daryl smiled back, pleasant butterflies in his stomach as Paul pulled him in for one more kiss. 

Paul continued to say it and was completely unbothered that Daryl didn’t say it back, he was just happy to be in love with someone who loved him back, even if they couldn’t say it.

They had been settling into bed, Paul laying down first and pulling Daryl into his arms and Daryl smiled as he rested his head on Paul’s bare chest. 

Daryl had been trying to find a way to say it for the past couple of days, stressing and worrying about making it as nice as it was when Paul said it. 

But when Paul pressed a kiss to his head as he stroked his back and said. “Goodnight, I love you.” Daryl found that to be the best moment. 

“Love ya, Paul.” He replied quietly and then nuzzled against Paul’s chest. 

Paul stopped his movements in surprise and then smiled widely and pulled Daryl into him tighter, pressing another kiss to his head and moving his hand to the man’s hair from his back and begins threading his long fingers through them. 

 

* * *

 

Daryl Dixon was two years and half a month into The Next World when he told Paul "Jesus" Rovia about Ty.

It had been a hard conversation that had happened after they were making out on their bed and things started getting more intense, Daryl had tensed up and Paul had sensed it and stopped their actions. 

“What’s the matter?” He asked softly and moved Daryl out of his lap and put him on the bed beside him, he placed a hand on the man’s cheek and stroked softly. 

Daryl took a deep shaky breath and closed his eyes, when he opened them again to find Paul looking at him in concern he started sobbing and collapsed into the man’s arms. 

Daryl had cried for a long time and Paul let him, it was really the first time Daryl had let himself feel the events from the night in the alleyway and minutes later he talked about it for the first time. Paul kept Daryl wrapped in his arms and Daryl was happy to stay there as he recounted the events of that night. 

Paul was crying along with him soon enough though not as intensely. 

Paul was furious, absolutely boiling. The idea of someone hurting Daryl and coming so close to take what they had no right taking had him almost shaking with anger, he had managed not to fully release his anger and take deep breaths as he held his sobbing boyfriends in his arms. 

 

* * *

 

Daryl Dixon was forty two years old and two years and one month into The Next World when he lost his virginity. 

It was slow, sweet and gentle. Everything that Daryl needed and everything he wanted, Paul took his time and was so incredibly considerate because according to him virginity and sex in general was not something to be taken or demanded, it was something to be shared and savour. 

They kissed slow for what could have been hours before they slowly began stripping each other of their clothes and then dropping them to the wooden floor, the clank of belt buckles colliding with it being the only other sound in the room for a few moments apart from their soft moans and gasps. 

Their lips seemed to be almost always connected, bruising and swelling from the constant contact and Paul’s having seemed to turned impossibly more pink. 

Once the clothes were off they settled onto the bed with Paul between Daryl’s legs and beginning to grind their rock hard and leaking cocks together, they were both so into it, moaning into each other’s mouths and smiling lovingly at each other. 

Paul reached into the bedside table and pulled out a bottle of lube. Paul took his time stretching Daryl open, drinking in the man’s moans and making sure he wasn’t uncomfortable or in any pain. 

By the time Daryl had three fingers inside of him he was moaning desperately, he needed more and he told Paul as such as he gripped his hip desperately and looking at him with pleading eyes. Paul smiled at him and felt relief even himself, he needed to be inside of the man so bad. 

Paul gently slipped his fingers from him and then began to lube up his cock. 

Paul pushed inside slowly and carefully, making it as painless as possible. Once he was fully sheathed inside of Daryl’s heat he moaned into the man’s neck as he stiffened his hips and legs to keep them still, his body was begging to just _thrust already._ But no, Paul would never do that until Daryl told him to do so. 

He did a few moments later whispering _please, now_ into his ear and bucking against him. Paul moaned softly at his desperate woods but did as he said, he began the slow roll of his hips into Daryl’s body, the older man groaning and moaning with every movement. 

Paul would pull out until a few inches of himself was left inside and then he’d push right back in until Daryl was completely full with him. 

They kissed and moaned repetitively as they brought each other such intense pleasure. 

Paul slowly took Daryl apart until the man was grabbing at his back, his blunt nails dragging down his back as he informed Paul he was cumming. 

Daryl spurted his orgasm between their bodies and Paul followed just moments later inside of the man. 

Once they were finished they settled onto the bed in a spooning position, Daryl completely wrapped up in Paul’s arms and he has never felt more at home. 

 

* * *

 

Daryl Dixon was three years and seven months into the next world when he got married. 

It was their first day back in Alexandria after moving back into the community, the move was hard, hard to leave Maggie and Hershel but it had been for the best. All the major work that needed to be done at The Hilltop such as builds and repairs was done, The Hilltop was and always had been a farming community so their main focus was crops and animals but that’s not where Daryl and Paul’s main skill sets were. So, the two men moved back to Alexandria, they community that was responsible for most of the runs and scouting missions between the communities. 

They had arrived at Alexandria early morning and had spent their entire day setting up their house (and christening the beds and couches of course) they had been given their own house just a few down from Rick and Michonne’s, it was smaller than most houses in the community, two bedrooms and two bathrooms and only one story which was fine considering it was just the two of them living there. 

The house was all set up with their personal belongs, Paul was excited as fuck because there’s more room in the house than they had at the trailer and that meant more books and more useless clutter. 

It was a pleasant afternoon, being only the first month of spring it was still quite cool as it got later but they both had their jackets on so it was fine. They were sitting out in their backyard on a checkered blue and green blanket with a bottle of champagne they were passing between them and a fruit platter. 

They had finished talking about their next scheduled run and were sitting in silence when Daryl watched Paul dig around in the pockets of his cargo jeans and then pull out two sets of silver rings, wedding bands. 

Daryl’s eyes widened and his jaw fell slack. “Paul?” He mumbled and received a smile from the other man. 

Paul moved closer to him. “I don’t want a ceremony and I’m sure you wouldn’t either but I love you, Daryl and I want to marry you.” Paul told him as he smiled, lips spread wide with it and those crinkles around his eyes showing.

Daryl couldn’t help but smile back, be Paul’s husband? Yeah, he liked the idea of that a whole lot. “We jus’ put the rings on and start going as husbands?” He asked, his eyes going down to Paul’s hand that holds the silver rings. 

Paul smiled wider and felt the ring beneath his thumb. “Yeah, suits us I think.” He chuckled and Daryl did the same. Paul went serious after a moment and held up the larger ring and took Daryl’s hand in his own. “Daryl Dixon, I love you so much, will you marry me?” He asked, eyes almost watering. 

Daryl gave him a small smile. “Hell yeah.” He said in reply and held his finger out to Paul, Paul immediately placed the ring on it and smiled widely, liking the way it looked on the other man. 

Paul looks at the ring until Daryl is ducking his head to meet Paul’s and then he’s pressing their lips together. 

**Author's Note:**

> I loooovve Kudos and Comments


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